


Things

by knightlymuse



Series: Decisions [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst?, I reasearched and tried to understand said research as best as I could, Other, also starting at the first chapter I switch writing styles whoops, basically self indulgent shit for me, sorry if this is shitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightlymuse/pseuds/knightlymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[HUMANSTUCK] | A depressed Vriska's had enough of her home life and wants a new start, to escape from the overbearing mother she barely knows and the school where she's got no friends. Somehow, her best friend John manages to get one of his friends to convince their guardian to take the teenaged girl in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It’s hard being a teenager.

It’s hard and no one understands.

Or at least, they’ve forgotten. Sighing, the girl runs a hand through her hair. It’s late at night, way later than she should have been awake. She removes her glasses to rub at her eyes as she yawns; it’s 1am on a school night, and she’d been up studying again.

School was going to be the death of her, she thought.

She stood up, stretching, listening to the bones crack and pop as she did so. She’d been sitting for much too long. Closing her books, she shoved them back into her backpack. She could shower later, after she woke up. But for now, her pesterchum was pinging at her.

 

\--ectoBiologist [EB] begain pestering arachnidsGrip [AG] at 1:04—  
EB: hey vriska  
EB: isn’t it way late? what are you still doing up?  
AG: Yeah. I was studying. 8ut I’m just a8out to head to 8ed.  
EB: oh. well yeah you probably should sleep. it’s not gunna do you any more favors if you stay up this late every night. you seem stressed enough as is.  
AG: Ugh, I know. Don’t remind me. 8ut it’s almost the weekend so I can sleep in a couple days.  
AG: We’ll have to talk tomorrow night. Right now someone’s up and I know I’ll get yelled at for 8eing up so late again.  
AG: Night John.  
\--arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]—  
EB: vriska?  
EB: dammit!  


 

Sighing, she shut down her computer and went to bed. She knew she would pay tomorrow for how late she was up, but she was tired of caring about her sleep schedule.

To be honest, she was tired of caring about anything.

She just wanted to sleep; maybe forever, maybe just for a day or two. It changed on any given day. And she only had John, her best friend (and for a couple years, her _only_ friend) to talk her through anything; even her family was hard to talk to. In fact, she had stopped trying to talk to them about herself months ago, the last time her mother had actually been home for more than a day or two. Being yelled at for not having perfect grades like her sister for her entire academic career and being told that she was just going through a moody phase had not made how she felt about anything better.

It’s hard being mostly alone. It’s hard and no one understands.

For as tired as she’d felt moments ago, she was unable to sleep now. She turned, wondering if she should text John, see if he was awake. Maybe he could sneak out and they could hang out, they hadn’t done that in a few weeks.

No, it was late. But maybe tomorrow, she would get ahold of him and see if he was up for it.

The thought made her smile, just a little, as she finally started to drift off into sleep.


	2. Chapter One

Your name is Vriska Serket, and today feels like it may have been one of the worst days of your young life.

To be honest, you’re surprised you can even say that. Before today, you’d thought the worst day had been when Megido had thoroughly kicked your ass back a few years ago and you’d gone home only to have your sister shake her head at you silently. But no; somehow this manages to surpass even that.

Today has seemed normal enough. Shower, toast and coffee, walk to school and try to make it through the day ignoring all your former friends. Same as every day. The teachers seemed to be more determined than ever to shove every bit of knowledge down their student’s throats by piling on the homework, and with no study halls today you’ll be busy most of the weekend with it. Their constant reminders of SATs coming up weren’t helping, either.

You had thought that gym class, in the middle of the day, would have helped you. It had been co-ed, to play volleyball, and you were even okay when you were stuck with a couple of former friends on your team.

At least until that ball came smacking you right in the face from the opposite team.

Fucking Makara. Of course it would have been him, out of all people; he was so blazed out of his mind that you were sure it had been an accident. Not that it made it hurt any less. And of course the kid doesn’t know his own strength. You didn’t even bother waiting for the teacher to check on you, storming right into the locker room to assess the damage. Your glasses weren’t broken, which was a huge relief. But your nose was bleeding, though it didn’t feel broken, and a huge bruise was already obvious on your cheek and jaw.

You had shoved paper towels into your nostrils and gotten dressed, hoping this would be the worst of it.

It wouldn’t have been too bad, until the comments started coming.

“Hey Serket, did Aradia get you again?”

“Dayum girl, your face go through a grinder or something?”

“Hey, you look better this way!”

You had gritted your teeth, ignoring them and pushing down the memory of the fight you’d been in years ago. At least then you had deserved getting your ass kicked and were able to bear most of those comments with pride.

But today, the jeering was just making you feel more awful than you had been lately. And of course, the snickers and the looks of your peers weren’t helping either.

By lunch you’d snuck away to the bathroom, and wow was your face looking worse. That bruise was a deep purple and swelling up, from your jaw to just below your eye. The actual events that had taken place had already gone around, as stories do, and it had made your stomach drop a little to see that people were high-fiving Gamzee, congratulating him as he looked mildly surprised.

You were barely able to summon up any anger against anyone. Not like you’d used to.

You didn’t really want to finish your school day, and so you hadn’t. You’d hidden in the school’s library until the last lunch period, and once it was over you’d simply gathered your things and walked out of school. No fuss, no fight, you simply hid in the public library the rest of the day, getting a jump-start on the pile of homework you’d already gotten.

It hadn’t been too bad until you got home.

You were slightly late, according to your phone. You hadn’t been paying attention to the time and arrived home ten minutes later than you normally would, but the first thing you’d seen was the extra car in your driveway.

Your mother was home.

Well, fuck.

For all the time you’re studying, your grades had been slipping lately. You knew she would throw a fit, and contemplated climbing in through your bedroom window when the door opened.

Double fuck.

The look on her face said it all. Aranea must have told her about your slipping grades. You were hoping she didn’t realize you’d skipped half a day of school, either, as you hung your head a bit and walked into the house.

Speaking of Aranea, you didn’t see her or her girlfriend around, either. Not that you were looking too hard as you tried to shuffle to your room.

“Vriska Sigdis Serket you get back here right now.”

With a sigh, you turned, dropping your bag and trudging back to the living room, where your mother was waiting.

“What is this your sister tells me about your grades? You’re practically failing! Dammit, this is not how you were raised. Do you want to go through your whole life as a failure? I know you can do better than this, these grades right here are bullshit! No, don’t you roll your eyes as me young lady, there is a standard in this house and you know it! If you keep this slacking up you’re never going to get anywhere in life, you know that? And don’t think that I’m going to support you, either. If these grades don’t pick up by the end of the semester then you are going to be so far beyond grounded that your grandchildren will be telling stories about it!”

You couldn’t even pretend that it had been hard to roll your eyes at that. Whatever punishment your mother could conceive wouldn’t be held up by Aranea for too long and you knew it. Of course, at the second eye roll your mother started screaming louder, reiterating how much of a failure you were destined to be if you didn’t pick up your grades. She was full-blown into it now, not even noticing any time you winced when she spouted a particularly nasty insult your way; you didn’t even think she’d noticed your bruised face. By the time she was done with you, Aranea and Meenah had come out from Aranea’s room and were lurking in the kitchen, just staring at the verbal assault.

You pretended not to see them as you picked up your bag and locked yourself into your room.

Immediately, though, you unlock your door and head to the bathroom, running a washcloth under cold water and putting it on your bruised, sore face.

Yes, much better.

At least most of your homework was done already. You weren’t going to bother with that until later tonight, or maybe tomorrow. Right now you weren’t feeling up to anything related to work.

Instead, you decided to dick around on the internet, looking at dumb pictures and playing dumb facebook games. Anything to distract yourself.

You don’t even know why you bother with that half the time anymore.

Oh, your pesterchum is pinging at you again. John must be on.

 

\--ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering arachnidsGrip [AG] at 5:20--

  
EB: hey vriska!   
EB: are you able to talk now? since it’s a decent time and all.   
AG: Oh, yeah. Sorry a8out last night, it was just late and I needed to sleep./span>   
EB: haha, no problem! so what’s up?   
AG: Not much. Mom’s home, so I got the whole ‘you’re going to be a failure’ speech from her 8ecause of my grades.   
AG: Also Gamzee managed to get a volley8all to hit me in the face, it’s pretty 8ruised up and shit. That went just a8out as well as you can imagine at school.   
EB: ouch! are you okay?   
AG: Yeah, I’m alright. It just sucks.   
AG: Everything sucks right now.   
AG: It’s 8ad enough that they’re not even my friends anymore. And I’m sure it was an accident and all. 8ut still, every time I think a8out it…   
EB: well you tried to make up with everyone right? i’m sure they’ll come around eventually!   
AG: I dunno John. I’m tired of telling myself that. I’m tired a lot. I’m tired of everything.   
AG: I know I made a lot of mistakes in the past, 8ut I tried to apologize and make it right. They were the ones who didn’t 8elieve me.   
EB: i know that. but you still have me! :B   
EB: come on. i’m sure it’ll be alright.   
AG: John it’s 8een two years!   
AG: They haven’t said one word to me unless we had to for a dumb school thing.   
AG: I wanted to make things right and they all ditched me. I don’t know what else to do, I don’t really wanna 8e here anymore.   
EB: vriska…   
AG: I mean it John. I don’t know what to do. It feels horri8le to know that they don’t want anything to do with me anymore, even though we’d 8een friends since we were little!   
AG: I… I don’t really want to die. If that’s what you were thinking. I just wanna… Leave.   
AG: Running away sounds good.   
EB: but what about your family? your sister would worry at least.   
AG: Yeah. 8ut she’d 8e 8etter off without me around all the time. I’m just a pain in the ass anyway.   
EB: no you’re not :(   
EB: come on, why don’t we hang out or something? we haven’t for a while and that usually makes you feel better!   
AG: May8e later. Not tonight.   
AG: Tonight I just kinda wanna hang out alone.   
EB: oh. want me to leave you alone?   
AG: Yeah, just for a little 8it. I’ll talk to you again in a few hours.   
EB: alright. try to take it easy okay?

\--ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased pestering arachnidsGrip [AG]—

 

With a sigh, you push yourself away from your computer to pick up a book instead. Plopping down on your bed, you open it and try to read, but your mind isn’t letting you. You keep going back to the events of today, and go back even further, remembering how your friends had even left you in the first place. You put the book down and exit your room, heading back to the bathroom to put your washcloth away. Glancing in the mirror, your face looks a little better, but your eyes are red.

You didn’t even realize you’d been crying.

You trudge back to your room, trying to avoid any of your family that’s still out and about. Luck being on your side for once, they don’t notice you and you make it to your room flopping face-first onto your bed.

This time you’re aware of the tears, and you make no attempt to stop them.

It feels like there’s nothing left for you here. You just want everyone to leave you alone, but at the same time you want someone who will stay beside you to try and comfort you. Talking to John across the internet isn’t the same, and even though he’s in the next town over you still aren’t able to see him as often as you like. Being sixteen doesn’t really help that, either, to you at least.

You feel like you’re a nuisance to your family, and you’re starting to believe your mom whenever she calls you a failure. You have no friends here, and the fake confidence you’d managed to drum up before was gone, depleted forever. You want to be perfect, to make your mom be proud of you for once.

You want your friends back.

Maybe it would be better if you were gone. Not dead, you don’t want to die… But you would like to be gone…

When you wake a few hours later, everyone else in the house is asleep, to your relief. You check your pesterchum; John seems to be preoccupied with something else, probably playing games with Dave. This relieves you more, because you are sure he might try to talk you out of this, and you’re determined to see it through.

 

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 10:33—

  
AG: So I’ve come to a decision.   
AG: I am going to run away.   
AG: There’s nothing here for me, and I just want to wipe the slate clean and start over again, you know?   
AG: Anyway, that’s the plan. I don’t exactly know when I’m going to leave 8ut I’ll let you know when I figure it out, okay?

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] has ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]--


	3. Chapter Two

You frown as you read over the message Vriska has left you while you were playing games. And now she’s not even online for you to reply to. She must have gone to bed already.

“Yo, earth to Egbert. Come in Egbert. I thought we were gunna play this?”

Shaking your head, you laugh into your headset a little. “Sorry about that. Vriska’s been more down than normal and I just noticed that she’d left me a message while we were playing.” Breaking off into silence, you reread what she’s told you and frown heavily. Usually when she gets like this she just complains about wanting to hide away from the world, and you have to talk her out of it. But running away?

You’re glad she’s not going to hurt herself, but this still seems pretty impulsive.

“Egbert! John come on you’re just standing there getting shoved around by cows, what the fuck yo?” Oh, right. You and Dave were supposed to be building a giant fort or something.

“Yeah yeah. I’m here, just trying to think here.” You get a move on in your game, away from the blocky cows that were nudging you around and start moving towards where Dave’s character is.

“Bout what? I mean, Vriska’s down a lot isn’t she?” You watch as he places some blocks, and get to work yourself on your side of the fort. “I mean, she has been the downest of Debbies lately. So far down the sun can’t reach and she forgot her flashlight so she can’t even see.”

“Dave. Come on. It’s more serious this time, she’s running away.” Now you’re grumpy, and use your character in the game to bonk his as you frown more.

You’re surprised to hear Dave chuckle a little. “I doubt she’s actually serious. I mean, she’s always saying shit like that isn’t she? Oh, woe, nothing here I’m gunna go.”

“Dave I’m pretty sure she’s serious about this. She doesn’t fuck around when she gets in her moods. You know that.”

That actually makes him pipe down a little as he makes a wall higher and higher. “Man, the way you talk about her sometimes. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were dating or some shit.” You roll your eyes at that comment. You’re used to it by now; the two of you have been close friends since you first met, years and years ago. And now you’re pretty much her only friend.

The silence lingers, getting more uncomfortable as time passes. Fifteen minutes go by without a word from neither you nor Dave as you think. If you could take her in, you would in a heartbeat. But your dad, you know he’d let her stay the night at the very best, and he’d take her home the next morning.

And then where would she be? What would happen to her at home when her family found out she’d run away?

What would happen if she tried to run away after that? Or if the next time he talked to her after that, she was in a worse mood?

You sigh, causing Dave to sound like he just jumped out of his chair. But being Dave, he plays it off. “Yo man, I didn’t think you were still here. Good to know you’re still breathing.”

“Yeah, I didn’t go anywhere. I was just thinking. I don’t want her to run away, but I don’t think I can stop her either. She said she wanted a clean slate, so…” You drop that sentence, the weight of the implication behind it obvious to you both.

“So she’d keep running.” Dave finishes the sentence after a moment or two.

“With nowhere to go,” you add. “Dad would just take her back to her house.”

“So shit man. Let’s give her a place to go. When’s she leaving?”

“What?” You’re not sure if he’s being serious right now. “She said she wasn’t sure, she’d tell me when she figures it out.”

“Alright. So give me like ten minutes dude, I’ll be back.”

You hear him get up; his bro doesn’t care if he’s on tinychat to talk to you, even if you two get stupidly loud. You stop playing, straining your ears to try and listen, to see if you can catch what’s being said; it sounds like Dave’s bro was already nearby. It’s hard to hear much of anything, but you catch a few words like “seriously?” and “not much room” and, more worrisome for you, “how long?” You stop listening to think of how Vriska’s going to even react to whatever they Striders are discussing. She knows Dave, they’ve talked a few times when all three of you played games together, and they met at least once in person. But to actually go and live with him and his bro?

“Kay, so,” Dave says, returning to his computer. “Bro’s not a hundred percent on this, but he’s willing to let her stay with us. I told her I didn’t know how long she’d be here, and that made him kinda iffy. But I gave him the short version and that kinda made him give in. He doesn’t want us like, getting caught up with her family shit or have her mom think we kidnapped her or something, though.”

“Well, I don’t even know if her mom or sister know she knows you,” you respond, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension fill your heart. “I know we’re not that far away and all, but I think it depends on how her family takes it. But I’m sure if she gets caught she’d try to make sure you and your bro aren’t in any trouble.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Dave says as you two start playing again. “Get ahold of her soon, though. Bro said if she’s gunna stay with us she should be here before the weekend’s over.”

You let out a relieved laugh at that. “I’m sure she’ll be perfectly fine with that,” you say. “Come on, let’s ditch this fort and go dig for stuff.”


	4. Chapter Three

It’s almost noon when you wake up to your phone going off. You grumble a protest, but after a few minutes you check to see who’s bugging you and why it’s so important - even though you’re secretly relieved that it woke you. Your mom would have a fit if she found you were sleeping so late again.

It’s an actual call. Holy shit, how often does that happen? Normally you would ignore it, but it’s John so you just answer it instead. “Mhnnnn. John, it’s early. What is it?”

“Oh good, you did answer!” he said. He sounds cheerful, almost obnoxiously so. But maybe that’s your own grumpiness at being woken up against your will. You rub your eye, wincing as you realize you got the sore side of your face as he keeps talking. “So, I was talking to Dave about how I was worried about you last night, with your… Well, what you told me last night.”

He sounds like he’s trying to keep it a secret, and you figure his dad must be nearby as you climb out of bed and wander over to the closet to search for clothes. “Yeah? What did he say?” You can’t help being a little bit irritated that he told someone else. Even though your friend means well, this was something you were hoping would stay private so you didn’t get caught.

“Weeeeeeeeell…” he drags out, as you grab a shirt from the hanger and toss it to your bed. “When I told him about it and how I was worried, he ended up talking to his bro. So as long as you’re serious about this, you got a place to stay.”

You nearly fumble the phone at those words and stop your search for clean garments. “Shit. Seriously? Like… For how long? Is there a catch?”

He hesitates briefly, and your heart starts pounding. “Well, his bro’s not entirely sure how long you intend to stay. And he doesn’t wanna get caught up in some drama if you get busted. And you need to be there before Monday. But other than that, he’s cool with it.”

You can almost hear him grinning as he says that. Your heart is doing nothing to calm itself and you feel a small grin creep onto your face – the first in a very long time that was actually sincere. “That’s no problem,” you say, creeping over to your door and opening it a crack. No one’s there and you almost sigh in relief as you close it. “I need a ride, though. Not exactly rolling in cars here.”

“Don’t worry. Me and Dave can come get you at our usual hang-out spot. Like, seven maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect. I’ll see you two then, okay?” You don’t give him a chance to respond before you hang up. For the first time in years, you’re actually giddy. It doesn’t take you long to gather up your clothes and head to the bathroom for the quickest shower you’ve ever taken.

 

\----

 

Once you’re out of the shower, you take a look at your face and grimace. It still looks horrible, albeit better than yesterday. You dry off and dress, taking your clothes back to your room and dumping them on the floor. There’s a lot of time before you need to even leave your house, so you might as well try and make the best of your time.

First thing, though, you need some food. As quietly as you can, you sneak out to the living room/kitchen area, only to see Meenah sitting on the couch watching some dumb sitcom. A glance out the window tells you that Mother isn’t home right now, a huge relief. You’re getting some cereal when your presence is finally noticed. “Hey little Serket. What da fuck happened to your face yesterday?”

You look over; she’s not even looking away from the TV. Shrugging, you get some milk, trying to make it like it’s no big deal. “Gym accident. Gamzee slammed a ball into my face, I don’t even know if he realized he did it.” Your mood darkens as you begin to seethe; you definitely are not sure that the younger Makara meant for it to be an accident at all. But you shake your head as you get yourself some juice to drink, too. If you’re lucky, after tonight you won’t need to think about any of them at all, ever again.

“Yeesh. That kid must be on ‘roids or something. It looked fuckin painful last night.” She’s silent a moment, as are you as you flash briefly to last night. Sometimes you wonder if Meenah knows more than she actually appears to. The way she looks at you… it’s like she knows what’s in your head. “You should probs ice it or something.”

“It’s fine. It feels better today,” you lie, as you head back to your room with your meal. “Where’s mom at anyway?” you call from the hallway.

“She went for groceries with your sister. Just you ‘n me for a while,” she calls back. You don’t answer, though; you continue onwards to your room, closing the door behind you.

Sitting down at your desk, you turn on your laptop and eat your breakfast thoughtfully as it starts up. You should be packing, but there’s one thing you want to do first because you know if you wait you’ll forget. Once your computer’s started up, you set the bowl aside and get on the internet, logging into your facebook. You have family on there, for the most part; no friends but John, Dave, and a friend of theirs named Jade who you only met once. You dick around, removing your family from your already impressively short friends list. Hopefully, they won’t even notice until you’re already gone.

Once you’re done, you finish up your food and drink the milk dregs at the bottom and take your bowl back out. Meenah’s still watching TV and your mom and sister are still gone.

Good.

You place the bowl in the sink and head back to your room in silence, shutting the door behind you. You get off the facebook that you’re not even sure why you still have and start up some music. Making sure it’s loud enough to cover any odd sounds that you might make, you dump the contents of your school bag onto your bed. Odd relief flows through you with the motion, and you take a moment to savor it. No more classes with your former friends and you won’t be around for any more jokes about your bruised face from your classmates.

It’s almost exhilarating.

You search your closet, finding a messenger bag in there that you think might have been Aranea’s at one point in its life, and a smaller duffel bag. You won’t be able to carry too much with you, and it would be better to travel as light as you can. But at the same time you know that you won’t be coming back for anything.

It takes you a few hours, by which time your mother is home and food is being made, but you’ve determined what you’re taking. Clothes, a few books that you don’t want to leave behind. Stuffed plush animals you can’t bear to be without. Important documents that you think you might need for anything. A few pairs of shoes shoved into the duffel bag. You even nicked a few of your favorite candles, and your lighters. Your essentials are in a big purse that Meenah had gotten you one Christmas, and there’s plenty of room for your laptop in there yet. You glance at your phone to check the time. 5:45p.m.; you’ll have time to eat, brush your teeth, and finish packing. Shoving your bags into the closet, you head out to see what’s being made.

Your sister smiles at you, and for a moment you’re not sure you can leave her behind, guiltiness chewing at your stomach like a rabid dog. But then there’s your mother, and she scoffs at you angrily, especially at your bruised face, and the guilt leaves you almost as quickly as it had flared up. You got some of the dinner Aranea had made and take your plate to you room, mumbling a few words about not feeling well and not wanting to be bugged for the rest of the night. Out of the corner of your eye you see Aranea nod and hear her say something about wanting you to feel better, but you ignore her.

You pick at your food for a few minutes, only eating a few bites before giving up. You take your plate and dump the food in your bathroom garbage and brush your teeth, taking your toothbrush to your room when you’re done. You set the plate on your desk and shove the toothbrush into a baggie you’d already grabbed earlier. You unplug your laptop and put it into your giant purse, amazed it even fits in there with everything else. You make one last sweep for anything else important, lingering over your dresser.

There’s a pack of cigarettes in there, and you grab it with only slight hesitation.

You’re nervous, but you put on a hoodie and a pair of sneakers, cigs in pocket along with a lighter and your phone. Blankets are bundled up on your bed to make it look like there’s someone there sleeping, and you sit down, thinking. It was harder than you thought it would be, getting up the nerve to leave. You can’t lie to yourself about being nervous, but it’s too late to call the whole thing off.

And you know that if you didn’t go now, you never will.

You grab a piece of paper from one of your school binders and grab a pencil from the pile of school supplies. The note you leave is brief, but it’ll get the message across.

Leaving it on your desk, you turn off your light and open your window as quietly as you’re able to.


	5. Chapter Four

It was harder than you expected it to be, to leave with four bags. But somehow, you manage to get everything out of your window with yourself without breaking anything. You have half an hour to meet John, but the walk to the park where you normally meet to hang out should only take you about twenty minutes. So you have a little extra time.

You close the window as best as you can behind you, but it won’t close all the way; the better to get your message across, you hope. Pulling up your hood, you look at your neighbor’s house and frown. Zahhak’s always been your neighbor since before the two of you were even conceived, and his window looks straight at yours. And of course, there’s a light on in his room.

Straining a little, it looks as though his curtain’s drawn shut, though. Good, with any luck he won’t notice you. You are tempted, so tempted to just give his house the finger, the last “fuck you” that any of your former friends will be getting.

And you give into that temptation, using both of your hands for a two finger salute before grabbing your bags and heading off.

You’ve walked this path so many times before, during the day and during the night that it’s engraved in your memory. Down the to the end of the street, turn and follow the dirt road till it you see the forest and cut through there till you get to the park. You jog a little until you get to the woods, where you slow to a fast-paced walk. There’s no point in trying to bother to be quiet in the woods, but you be careful to make sure nothing snags on a stray branch.

The moon is bright and lady luck seems to be on your side tonight.

When you get to the park, it’s empty. A couple street lights are on in the parking lot, which is empty. You check the time and you still have seven minutes until John and Dave show up. So you park your butt on the merry-go-round, setting your stuff beside you and lighting one of the cigarettes. The pack is half-empty, but it’s lasted you a long time; you only smoked when you were really nervous or upset to the point of crying incoherently. You cough, as it had been awhile since you’d last lit up, and the nicotine kind of makes your head hurt a little, but you relax as you take a drag and exhale smoke, watching it rise up and disperse into the sky.

By the time you hear a car pulling into the parking lot, your cig is gone and you’re lazily moving the merry-go-round with your foot. But you look up, recognizing the old SUV John’s dad had gotten him when he’d gotten his license. They put it in park and you grab your bags as the boys come out to meet you; as soon as John sees you he sprints, pulling you into a bear hug that you think might crush your ribs if he squeezed just a bit harder. You make a face at him but he grins, though his nose crinkles a bit at the smoke smell that still lingers on you. You look over to Dave, who’s just standing there, chill as ever and wearing his shades even though it’s nighttime.

The three of you are silent for a moment, and your heart is racing again. Finally, John lets you go and takes some of your bags, putting them in the hatch as you follow him. “Hey. See you still haven’t given that up yet,” he says. “I told you, it’s gunna rot your lungs out and they’ll have to hook you up to a machine for the rest of your life.” But he’s teasing and you know it, and you can’t help but let out a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah. This is the first time I’ve had one in a couple of months, you should be proud of me Johnny.” You climb into the back seat, not bothering to buckle up as John and Dave get in as well. “Hey, yo,” you say to Dave, tapping his shoulder. “I appreciate this.”

He turns to look at you, and as usual you can’t read his expression. It’s kind of unnerving. “No big deal. John was going all mother hen bout this, so I thought I’d step up and get the whole thing fixed.” He turns back to face forward as John starts the vehicle. “Don’t worry about it.”

But you can’t help but worry. You lean back in your seat, and you’re relieved that you’ve finally left home, but at the same time you’re nervous and scared. You’ve heard stories of Dave’s bro, but that’s not the same as actually meeting the guy. And John had told you that he wasn’t sure how long you were staying.

You’re not even sure how long you’re staying.

John and Dave start talking about something, and you lean against the cool glass of the window and pull yourself out of your thoughts to listen.

 

\----

 

By the time you get to Dave’s apartment you’re feeling better about your decision. Between you and John you’ve got your bags, and Dave leads you up the stairs and opens the door of his home. “Welcome to casa de Strider, Vriska.”

…You really have no idea what you were expecting. You’d thought Dave had been joking or exaggerating when he said about the mess of his place. But… holy shit. Katanas are everywhere, the weird puppets his brother makes are scattered… are those fireworks in the sink? Something in your face must be amusing, because Dave and John start snickering. You roll your eyes, looking around for anything else out of the ordinary. So far, so good, though. It’s definitely way different than your (former) home, and it’s good enough for you.

“Bro’s not home yet,” Dave says, waving you forward. He leads you down a hall, and opens a door to a room that looks like it hasn’t been used since the apartment was first inhabited. “I cleaned it earlier, you should be proud of me. But this will be your room. Bathroom’s right there, my room’s across the hall. Bro’s room is next to the kitchen. So uh, welcome home I guess?” He pointed to the doors of his room and the bathroom, and you made a note of where they were. Your room wasn’t too big, but it looked nice. And it was devoid of any puppets and swords.

“You’ll be fine here,” John said, setting your stuff down on your bed. “Dave and Bro know what they’re doing.”

“John don’t lie to her, you’ll piss her off.” Dave flipped him the bird and exited the room. “Hey, we still got pizza, get it while it’s cold.”

John just let out a laugh. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the room. “I doubt you actually ate before you left, right?” he asked, taking you to the kitchen where Dave was already digging into a box of cold pizza that he’d plopped onto the coffee table.

“John, it’s creepy how much you know sometimes,” you said, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a slice for yourself.

“I swear, you two could start dating and there would be no difference in how you act with each other,” Dave said through a mouthful of food. Swallowing, he added, “I mean seriously. You two are so tight it’s ridiculous.”

“Dave, I told you. We’re just really good friends,” John said, sitting down between you and Dave and turning on the TV. You just nod; your own mouth is full of pizza that you hope will stay down with how your nerves have been in the past few hours.

 

\----

 

By the time it’s one in the morning, John’s already gone home and you and Dave are playing videogames in the living room when the door opens. You jump a little, suspecting you’ve already been found out and are going to be dragged back to your mom’s house; instead, it’s just an older looking Dave with scalene shades and relief pours through you.

“Whoops, killed you again. Man you suck at this game Vris,” Dave says. He doesn’t even look away from the screen to greet his brother, either. “Hey bro. We didn’t eat all the pizza, fucking amazing right?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he replies, dropping car keys on a small table by the door and looking at you. “You must be the new houseguest. I’m Dirk, but the kids tend to call me Bro.” He comes closer and sticks out his hand, which you shake apprehensively. He leans even closer and you lean back on instinct, but the moment passes and he’s heading to the kitchen to rummage through cupboards. “Man, whatever got your face looks like it packed a good punch. Hope you got a good one in on whoever did that to you. Dave, what the fuck you didn’t even offer her ice or something for that?”

“John said it happened yesterday,” Dave said, and you imagine that underneath his shades he rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she got it already.”

Dirk smacks his little brother lightly upside the head as he hands you a rag that stinks like vinegar. “Put it on your face for an hour, it’ll help it. It’ll look less like shit tomorrow.” Despite your better judgment you do, and oh god it fucking stinks. A fucking hour you gotta wear this?

“I at least showed her around and stuff. Or at least showed her where her room and the bathroom is.” Dave’s getting up, shutting off the game. You two were pretty done with it anyway.

“A proper gentleman,” Dirk comments. “Don’t turn that off quite yet, gimmie a turn. Geez.”

The older Strider plops down on a beanbag chair that was resting beside the coffee table, picking up a controller and turning the console back on. Dave flips him off, too, before muttering about going to bed, leaving you alone with his brother.

You bring your knees to your chest, holding the rag on your face as you watch Dirk start up Skyrim and start questing. The two of you sit in silence, and once again you find yourself starting to feel nervous. You’re thinking of heading to bed yourself whenever he speaks up again.

“Alright. So from what I hear, you don’t know how long you’re gunna be here and you kinda had some personal shit back home.” You look at him; he’s paused the game to watch you and you bring your knees closer to yourself. “So until that blows over or whatever, you can do homeschooling, that cyber school shit. You’ll have to call your old school and get it all figured out, what you gotta do and then we gotta make appointments and stuff. It’s pretty complicated.” The thought of school makes you wanna cringe, but maybe you’ll feel better about it away from other students. And away from your mom. You don’t say anything, but you nod in agreement. You’re still tense as fuck and your stomach’s getting all twisted up on you. “Other than that, make yourself at home kid. Not really any rules, just be back at a decent time if you go out, you know. The usual.” He goes back to his game and you sit there surprised. “Hey, you okay with pot? Sometimes we smoke it.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I got no problems with it,” you say, standing up. “I’m gunna head to bed,” you add, and he nods as you make your way back the hall, dumping the rag in the sink and rinsing off your face quickly before you head to your new bedroom and curl up without touching your bags.


	6. Chapter Five

You wake up ridiculously early on Sunday, which for you is around eight in the morning. Your phone is going off, and when you grumble and roll over, you see it’s your mother calling. You don’t even bother to answer it as you get up and stretch. You decide to unpack, shoving all your clothes in the closet or dresser, stuffed animals on the bed, other stuff where ever you can fit it. It keeps you occupied for about an hour as you procrastinate checking your phone, which has been going off for most of the time you’d been working. Once everything is in their place, you sit on the bed and look at your phone. Your mom called once, Aranea’s called once and texted you a lot and Meenah only sent you one text. Swallowing, you listen to the voicemails left for you.

To your overwhelming expectations, your mother told you to get your ass home soon and to finish your school work so that it was done by Monday, who did you think you were going out like that and taking all your shit with you, you are in so much trouble when you get home. Aranea’s voicemail and texts are a little better, telling you to please come home soon and not be hurt, that whatever’s bugging you, you can work on at home. You can hear fear in your sister’s voice, contrasting with your mother’s irritated tone. Running a hand through your hair, you check Meenah’s text.

_hey lil serket you take care out there_

That stops you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting that to come from her in the least, but you let out a small smile. At least someone seems to believe in you in this mess.

You find an outlet in your room and plug your phone in to charge. Wiping your eyes of any moisture that may have cropped up, you find your way to the bathroom. Examining your face in the mirror, you note that Dirk was right. It looks a lot better than it did yesterday; in fact it even hurts less too. When you’re done in the bathroom you head back to your room to make sure your phone is turned down, in case your family tries to call you again, so that it doesn’t get loud and wake up everyone else.

You’re not surprised when you’re the only one awake. You’re kind of hungry, too, but you don’t want to just take their food. You linger between the kitchen and the living room, feeling entirely awkward before you just head into the living room, plopping down on the couch and turning on the TV. A sitcom marathon is playing, and you settle on that as you try to push out the thoughts of your worried sister and angry mother, occasionally making an odd noise as your thoughts overwhelm you. Eventually you’re laying down, flopped on the couch as the marathon plays; you’ve stopped paying attention as you think of the messages your family left and how you just feel more like shit for leaving in the first place. You thought it would get better once you were gone.

Wait, was something always blocking the TV from your view?

Pulling yourself out of your reverie, you pay attention to your surroundings. Nothing really sounds different, but there’s a puppet that doesn’t look like the others blocking your view of the TV, wearing a hat and a jersey and… oh god it feels like its eyes are staring into your soul.

That’s fucking terrifying.

You push yourself up and shake your head. How many episodes of this show have even passed? You have no idea. But you decide to keep watching until someone wakes up, because you don’t know what else to do with yourself and you still feel awkward.

Okay, now that puppet is sitting beside you. When did it even move?

You eye it warily. It just sits there, looking as innocent as it can, but you aren’t fooled. You’re wondering where they keep the salt around here when a voice makes you jump out of your skin with a screech.

“I see you’ve met Lil Cal.”

As you sputter and try to form coherent words, Dirk is standing there, leaning against the couch with a smirk on his face. It must be the like a laugh for Striders, you’ve never seen Dave smirk like that before unless something funny was happening.

“I… He has a name?” you ask, disbelief in your voice. That thing must be some kind of demon.

“Yeah. He’s been around for ages, since I was a kid. He’s pretty cool, don’t worry bout him. How long have you been up?” You can’t read his expression either, because of the shades, but you think he might be quirking an eyebrow. You really aren’t sure.

“Since eight or something. What time is it now?”

“It’s only ten. Not too bad. We got food, ya know, you look like you’ve been on the couch since you got up.”

“Mhn. Wasn’t hungry,” you lie, looking back to the television. You are hungry, but you don’t feel like eating right at the moment. “Thanks for the vinegar thing, though, it really helped.”

“Told you it would,” he says, putting something in a toaster. How does he navigate through all the swords and shit without getting hurt?

You smell waffles, and in a few minutes the toaster pops and Dirk joins you on the couch for your marathon, sitting on the other side of Lil Cal. The two of you are silent; you, unsure what to say, and him, either unsure as well or just thinking.

After another hour Dave wakes up, making more toaster waffles and shoving a plate at you when he’s informed you haven’t eaten. There’s much eye-rolling on your part, but he insists on being “a goddamn gentleman” in his words.

When you go back later to check your phone, you see that Aranea’s been texting you like crazy. Reading over them, it looks like she discovered that you took everyone off facebook too. You unplug your phone and pocket it when it starts vibrating, and it’s your mother calling again. After a few rings you slide your phone open and put it to your ear without saying a word.

“Vriska? Vriska Serket are you there? Where in the hell are you? What do you think you’re doing? I can’t believe you would do this, what the fuck are you thinking? You have a future to think of young lady, you’ll never make it if you keep pulling stunts like this!”

You hang up the phone and shove it back in your pocket. Maybe you’ll see if you can get your number changed or something, because this seems like the sort of thing that’ll keep up for a while.

Dave’s watching some eighties teen movie when you get back out there, and Dirk’s nowhere to be seen. “Hey. Where’d your bro go?”

“Groceries. We gotta eat ya know,” he said, glancing at you. “Sup?”

“Mhnn. My phone’s been blowin’ up, mostly Aranea. Mom’s left a couple of bitchy messages though, which was just a lovely way to start out the day.” You flop down on the couch to join him in his movie going.

“Yeah, just the best,” he replies. “I know that’s how I always start the day, Bro leaving me a shitty message.”

You let out a small chuckle at his sarcasm. “Yeah, I know. I don’t think she’s even upset that I left, just mad that I might not make it to school Monday and be the perfect little grade machine she wants me to be.” You frown again, thinking of your mother’s reaction; you’re sure that she doesn’t give a shit if you’re home or not, or even if you’re okay. And that’s something you don’t want to think about at all; time for a quick subject change. “So what’s the deal with Lil Cal?”

Dave lets out a snort. “Met him already? Not surprised.”

“Yeah, I did. So, what is he?”

“What do you mean? He’s family.” He turned slightly to look at you. “He’s been around for ages. You just get used to him being around all the time. Bro likes to flashstep him around a lot, which is fucking scary when you’re not expecting it.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I thought it was gunna. I dunno. Hurt me or something,” you say as you shake your head. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well Vriska,” Dave says, turning his attention to the TV again. “Things are gunna be different from now on for ya.”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning back against the couch. “I know.”


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which there are fish puns and I'm not good at them.

You think everyone needs to calm down already.

It’s been one week since Vriska ran off, leaving behind only a note and a few things she must not have needed. That had been one hell of a day. Aranea hadn’t left her phone out of her sight, and Mama Serket only bothered with hers twice.

You, personally, didn’t see what the big deal was. To you, it had been obvious to anyone who had eyes that the littlest Serket was not happy at all and that her family wasn’t really helping her. She hadn’t been the greatest at hiding it.

And you weren’t exactly great at helping, so you let things happen their own way.

That day had been the biggest blowout you’d seen between your girlfriend and her mother in, well, ever. Mrs. Serket didn’t think it was worth too much time to try and get ahold of Vriska, while Aranea had been losing her mind. You had no idea Aranea was capable of screaming at such a volume. A compromise had been reached, and Mama called twice; tensions had flared up again as it appeared that Vriska had answered and just hung up during the second call. Aranea never stopped trying to reach her sister, and nearly had a fit when she realized Vriska had been sneaky (smart?) enough to take everyone off her facebook.

Thank god Mama had left a couple days later.

Today, you’re relaxing on the couch watching a movie. Aranea’s sitting at the opposite end, watching her phone more than the TV in the hopes that it’s going to start ringing any second now.  You roll your eyes a bit and nudge her with your foot; she shifts away and lets out a small sigh.

Groaning, you sit up and move yourself until you’re lying on her lap with your cheeks puffed out like a puffer fish. Your girlfriend lets out a small smile to poke your cheek, and you let all the air out. “C’mon pouty face, cheer up,” you say, crossing your arms.

She looks to her phone again. You snatch it away and toss it to where you’d been sitting, and she huffs. “Meenah. I need that.”

You refuse to move. “Nah, you’ll be fine. It’s just a shellphone.”

“What if she tries to call and I can’t answer because you’re sitting on me?” She tries to nudge you off and you refuse to move, wriggling a little bit. “Come on, I mean it.”

“Aranea it’s been a week. Chill. If she wants to call she’ll call, and if not then leave her be,” you comment, shrugging a little. “She ain’t answered or called in a week; I don’t think she’s gunna call now.”

“Don’t say that!” Aranea’s voice cracks a little, and she looks close to tears. “She’ll call, and we’ll go get her and bring her home, and everything will be fine again.”

You sit up, raising your eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Yo, listen. She wasn’t happy and we both know it. Or at least I knew it. Anemonieway she wasn’t gonna stay much longer and you know it.”

Aranea looks like she wants to kill you or burst into tears. “We could have worked it out.”

You sigh and bring her in close, kissing her on the forehead; she’s been blaming herself for seven days, stressed out to high hell. You think that's been going on long enough, personally. “Maybe. Between the three of us, yeah, but your mama woulda found out and stopped the whale damn thing and then where would we be?” You pet her hair, trying to get her to calm down a little. “Look, don’t blame yourshellf here, alright? Your sister knew what she was doing, and she’s a good kid. Little Serket will be fine out there in that big ol’ world.”

She lets out a small groan, but doesn’t protest you holding her. “I still think we could have helped her,” she mumbles, “I wish she maybe would have said something before leaving like that. Just a note that says “I’m sorry, don’t look for me”? is all we get. We’ll never see her again, Meenah.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Shit, we don’t know that yet do we? Just clam your tits. I know you two were close and all, but just clam the fuck down. I’m sure she’ll be back when she’s ready, and if it’s a day or a year or ten, well then whatever.” You squeeze her, and she squeezes back. “Trust me, that little girl will be just fine.”

Aranea sighs, not saying another word, but your shirt is starting to get soaked. You’ve been trying for days to get her to see that it’s not the end of the world and that things will get better.

But for your girlfriend’s sake you hope that you were right when you say that Vriska will be back someday.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I asked coldhope for help with this chapter, for the therapy part, and I'd really like to thank her for helping me. She's such a nice lady.
> 
> You should also go read her stories if you haven't already because they're pretty awesome.

After three weeks of living here, you thought you would feel better by now. But you don’t, and it bothers you.

True, things are easier. Dirk is nowhere near as strict about anything as your mother was, or even like Aranea was. You’re able to do your schooling online, after a long complicated process of applying and proving you were who you said you were and whatnot. And not being around too many other people is making you feel better about your grades, even though you’re still having trouble keeping them to the standard you’re used to. You should feel like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulder, even with feeling guilty about leaving like you did.

So why do you just feel worse?

You do your best with your school, but you still feel like you’re failing. Guilt has been eating at your stomach for the entire time you’ve been here, and you feel like you reek of failure. To top it off, your sleeping is shit and sometimes non-existent. Definitely not restful at all.

It’s late, later than you thought when you check the time. It’s a quarter till four in the morning, when did that even happen? Fuck, when did you miss midnight for that matter? Oh well. Dirk works weird hours, being a DJ at one of the local clubs and messing around with whatever his internet business is. You really don’t want to know what he gets up to. But you’re hoping he’s asleep as you sneak out into the kitchen; the TV’s on, and he’s sitting there, yeah, but for all you know he’s conked out like a content baby in its crib.

It’s easy for you, now, to navigate all the hazards in this apartment. You’re able to avoid a cascade of katanas that fall from the top of the fridge as you open it, and you reach inside for a bottle of water and a container of Chinese food from yesterday. You don’t even flinch at the noise anymore, a fact you’re rather proud of actually. Plating your food, you notice Lil Cal is still at the table and go over to give him an only slightly awkward high five as you head back to the fridge to replace the remainder of the container.

He still freaks you the fuck out sometimes.

Dirk makes a noise as you head back to your room; the sword-avalanche must’ve woken him. “Hey kid. What’re you still doin’ up?” he asks, and you double back to the living room to answer him with a shrug. He sounds like he’s been awake the whole time.

“Lost track of time and realized I might need food. So I came to do that. I’ll go to bed by four-thirty.”

“Hm. C’mere, let’s have a little talk just you ‘n me,” he says, beckoning you forward with one finger. You hesitate as your heart begins to pound and you try your hardest to blink back any tears that might think of forming right now. You can’t help feeling like something overwhelmingly bad is going to happen right now, but you march forward and set down the food and drink you’d just wanted a moment ago, sitting at the edge of the couch.

“You okay there kid?” he asks you, and you just nod silently. Maybe you imagine it, but you think his mouth lowers fractionally. He waits for you to say something, but you’re silent as you look into his shades. Three weeks and you haven’t gotten better at gauging their reactions at all. “Uh huh…” he says once the staring contest you may have unintentionally initiated is over, removing his hat and running a hand over his hair. “Look, something seems to be going on here. You hide in your room like it’s a sanctuary, you sleep the weirdest fucking hours and I think you’ve been wearing that outfit for three days or something. Plus you change moods at the slightest breeze. Kind of annoying.” He lowers the shades a little, and you feel your eyes widen. Is that even a color eyes can be? “So. What’s up?”

You shake your head, slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m fine,” you say. _I think_ , you finish in your head. “I just have trouble sleeping, nightmares and shit. No big deal.” You can’t help but be confused, as any time you told someone you were fine, or any variant, they just dropped the issue.

Dirk is not willing to let it go, though, as he replaces his shades. “Here’s the deal. I’m not claiming to be an expert on kids and their problems, that’s not something I will ever say. But what I will tell you is that I don’t think this shit is normal. And since I’m not a professional at diagnosing people, I’m taking you to someone who is.”

“…What?” For as nervous as you are, you can’t help but let confusion creep into your face too. “Like… a shrink or some shit?”

“Exactly.” He stands up and ruffles your hair, which you shrink from and protest. “I’m calling them in the morning, so you better prepare yourself. Try and get some decent sleep tonight, alright?” With that, he leaves to head off to bed as you ponder over what just happened, because no one has been that helpful before.

This is definitely different than living at your mother’s house.

 

\----

 

True to his word, Dirk got you an appointment, and a couple days after your talk you’re sitting in a psychologist’s office, trying to hide yourself behind a magazine as you wait your turn. Dirk came with you, since he wasn’t working until eight tonight, but Dave’s in school. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or more nervous that Dave’s not there; you feel almost embarrassed to be there right now.

After you and Strider Senior had filled out the paperwork together, there wasn’t much else to do but wait.

Dirk’s messing around on his phone now, and when they call for you he doesn’t even get up. “It’s all you now, little girl,” he says, and you nod as you make your way into the room.

The psychologist smiles at you pleasantly as you enter, and she motions you to small fainting couch. You sit, rigid, at the very edge, and try to relax. This is supposed to help you.

At least, that’s the plan.

You focus on her as best as you can, and she continues to smile at you. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m just going to ask you a few questions, alright? Today will be about getting to know you.” You nod, confused because isn’t it just the unwritten rule that shrinks always ask you shit? She must notice, because already she’s scribbling down some notes on a clipboard she’d brought with her. “Now, what brings you here today?”

You are silent just for a moment. You could give her a literal, smart-ass answer; that is definitely appealing to you right now. But instead, you just shrug as if you’re not concerned and say, “Just not happy, I guess.”

More scribbling takes place. It doesn’t even sound like it would be legible when she tries to read it. “And you are sixteen years of age, correct?” You nod. “And which grade are you in, for your school?”

“Sophomore, technically,” you reply.

“Technically?” she echoes back at you, with a questioning look. “Are you implying that you are no longer in school?”

You scrunch your face. “Cyber-school,” you shoot back. This feels like it’s going to be the longest appointment of your life.

“I see.” More notes, and for a moment there’s silence. “And your parents enrolled you?”

A small, irritated noise escapes you. “No. I don’t live with my parents.”

You had hoped for a response, but your psychologist is acting like this is a thing that happens all the time. Christ, for all you know it does. Your therapist just nods. “So instead you live with an older sibling?”

“No. I don’t live with my family at all anymore.” Your reply is curt, and you lean back against the couch and cross your arms. This is starting to get irritating.

More scribbles come from her direction, and you look towards the door, wishing your appointment could be over already. You don’t even look towards her as she asks you more questions. “So you’re living with a friend’s family.” You shrug, not because you’re unsure but because you don’t feel like talking anymore. It can’t have been more than ten minutes since your appointment began, but you want to leave.

After a few minutes of her waiting on you to elaborate on your shrug, she starts asking you new questions. “Could you describe your relationship with your relatives?” You glance at her out of the corner of your eye before you cross one leg over the other and hunching down. No, you don’t want to describe the relationship you had with your family. Your sisterly one might have been normal, but the one with your mother was just irritating and stressful, and for all intents and purposes those relationships no longer exist.

This woman has the patience of a saint, it seems, as she waits for you to respond. After five minutes or so, she poses another question to you: “What about your relationships with your friends?”

You settle further into the couch, but move your head enough to look at her as you manage to get out a “just fine” before lowering your head to study this couch you’re sitting in. It’s actually kind of comfortable, but the color is ugly as fuck. But at least you were honest; you think you do get along good with the three friends you actually have, even if you hide from the two that you live with a lot. None of them have ever mentioned to you that they’re fed up with you, which is a huge plus in your book.

You’re really getting irritated, but mostly you just want to hide. For all you know these questions could be standard, but they are too personal for you to even feel like bothering with answering. She continues being nice, asking you more generic questions like what your schooling is like now, how your home life is like where you are, what kind of hobbies you pursue. If anything in your life feels wrong, any odd symptoms you may be having. General questions, you think. You’re answering everything, but you refuse to volunteer anything on your own just yet, and as before if anything feels too personal you clam up, refusing to talk.

You don’t think that pen of hers has stopped this whole time.

Eventually, she stops asking questions, to your relief. She seems to be going over her notes, pen moving across the pages she’s written as you keep staring at the door. “Well,” she starts to say, “Gauging your reactions and answers, I feel as though you meet the criteria for clinical depression.” You turn to stare at her, wanting to be surprised but at the same time, you’re really not for some reason. “Now, there are plenty of options for this. There are various medications you can try, to help, but if you’re not comfortable being on a pill regime you can continue with therapy. I am happy to help you, but if you’d prefer someone else I can always recommend some other therapists to help you.”

You shake your head; a new person would ask you all the same stuff, and you really don’t want to deal with that again. You also don’t want to have to deal with stuffing pills down your throat day after day, either. She’s watching you expectantly, and you know the decision’s up to you. “I guess I’ll stick to just therapy here,” you say, nearly mumbling it. But she’s able to hear you perfectly, it seems, and she nods, smiling a comforting smile.

You’re not totally comforted, but you kind of appreciate the gesture.

“Since you’re going to continue here, I’d like for you to make another appointment, preferably within a week if you’re able to. We’ll be able to continue at that time, but for now our time is up.” She stands up, holding out her hand for you to shake. You also stand, shaking her hand warily. She leads you to the door, handing you a paper to take to the receptionist when you check out.

Dirk is still messing around on his phone when you get out to the waiting room; you just shove the paper at him to get his attention. He takes it, reading it in that way that makes it impossible to guess what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling. After a minute he stands, and you are grateful to finally, finally be on your way out. Really, you’re not looking forward to coming back at all, but it had to be done.

You feel guilty as he pays for the appointment for you, and you wonder if you should get a job if you’re going to have to keep this up for a while. You’re shaken out of your thoughts by the receptionist wanting to set up the next appointment, but once that’s taken care of you slip right back into those thoughts.

The two of you are silent on the way back to the apartment.

Dave’s already home by the time you two get back, playing a game with John online. He lowers the headset to greet you: “Hey, so how crazy did they say you are?”

“Not enough,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “But I gotta go back, so yeah. Fun times.”

“Well shit. How long you stuck with that?” He’s concentrating more on his game now, it seems, and Dirk appears to have vanished.

You lean across the top of the couch to watch Dave. “I dunno. Long enough, I guess. Depends on what the lady says.”

You hope you won’t be stuck in therapy for too long.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm pretty sure I got some of how pot smoking goes totally wrong. I did research it and I got a couple stories from friends that have partaken in it, but if you notice that something's still off please let me know!
> 
> Also I promise there is a point to this chapter.
> 
> Also also the firecracker was just a teeny one.

Time seems to fly when you’re actually busy and sleeping semi-decently. You’ve been going to your therapy for a while now, twice weekly. As much as it seemed like a huge pain at first, and as much as you (usually) hate to admit, you think it might actually be helping you – at least a little bit. Most days, though, it just feels like a chore that you put up with.

But things are looking up a little bit.

You’ve been working on coming out of the shell your therapist said you’d built around you, and bit by bit you might actually be becoming someone you want to be, in a way. You’re starting to feel better about everything in general, though it’s still rather easy for you to slip back how you were before with your moods and your sulking.

But today, everything seemed alright so far. You and Dave had hung out with John, and Jade and Rose had even been along too. The five of you had played videogames and watched movies, and you were almost able to forget completely the people you used to do this kind of thing with in your past. For once, you were feeling normal; at least, as normal as you think you can feel.

As the two of you enter the hallway where your apartment is situated, you both notice a smell lingering in the hallway. Dave recognizes it immediately, and after a moment you do too.

That’s something you haven’t smelled in a while.

When you two enter the apartment, you are not totally surprised by the sight in front of your eyes. In fact, it’s kind of amusing. Dirk’s chilling on the couch, a few pizzas are on the coffee table and some cartoon is playing on the TV. He looks rather absorbed in it, as a matter of fact.

“So did you save us any, Bro?” Dave asks as he shuts the door behind you two. Dirk lifts up his head to look at you, sort of – it looks like he’s got the heavy feeling. Dave looks mock-offended, but when he goes to investigate, he grins and holds up his reward: a small handful of joints. “So, you partake or not Vris?”

You shrug a little, a tiny, almost nervous smirk upon your lips. “Never have before, but smoking a joint can’t be too different from a cigarette, though. Effects aside, that is.”

“Next time we’ll show you how to use the bong," Dave says before he lights up, taking a drag off of the joint before handing it to you. It looks almost like a cigarette, as you look at it, save for the nub that seemed to be at the end that was now lit.

You don’t give it a second thought as you take your first drag.

 

\----

 

You feel like you’ve lost your entire concept of time as you shove a piece of pizza into your mouth. How long have you been staring at the television with the boys?

Why the fuck is that dog transforming into weird things?

The three of you are watching this show like it’s the best thing on the planet. Your head feels weird, though. Like everything’s a bit… slower than normal.

But you find yourself out of every single kind of fuck to give, because you feel fucking amazing right now.

But seriously you have no clue how much time has passed since you first lit up; it feels like you’ve wasted an entire day eating pizza and watching cartoons. Though the pizza is fucking amazing, so you can’t complain.

The next thing you know, Dave’s up and heading to the kitchen, looking for… something. You don’t know. But you and Dirk both look over as something smacks to the ground; you’re clinging to the side of the couch as you peek around it and he’s pushed himself up. Dave is just standing by the sink, a small brightly colored box having appeared from it, and the three of you stare for a minute before you all start laughing. Something about this moment is just hilarious, and through the giggles Dave bends down to pick up what he dropped.

Everyone manages to calm down a little from the hysterical laughter as he comes back to the living room. He sits beside you, and opens the box. Once he realizes what they are he lets a small smirk come onto his face as he casually tosses one of whatever was inside at you.

You jump back as it hits the ground near your leg with a loud _POP_. Scrambling up, you head for the sink to find another box, not even caring if you bump into things or spill half the sink-fireworks on the floor. You totally remember these from when you were younger, just a kid before life and shit got in the way and wow, you wish you weren’t remembering that because it kind of makes your heart hurt. Once your hand bumps into something you remember what you were searching for and pull up the box, opening it and just dumping the sawdust padding the contents on the floor as you pry out the little plastic baggie.

Dirk’s gone back to the tv, which switched up to a different show, and Dave is watching you. Carefully, you creep back and duck behind the couch.

He’s still trying to watch you.

You lob one of the little white snaps towards him and it fails to go off like it was supposed to. But Dave moves, sneaking up behind you and dropping a couple that send you jumping out of your skin.

It doesn’t take long for each of you to deplete your box of bang snaps, but you’re both having too much fun to care. You race back to the sink, trying to find another box to continue. But before you find one for yourself, you pull up something and hold it up like a fisherman with his little prize. Dave’s not paying attention, but you, thinking, snatch up a lighter from the kitchen table. The fuse looks a bit longer than it should be, but you think that it shouldn’t be a problem.

You have trouble getting the lighter to light, but Dave finally notices you in this time. He shakes his head at you, and mutters something that sounds vaguely like “can’t light that in the apartment.”

So instead you open a window and light the firecracker before tossing it out the window like your life depended on it.

Dave’s mouth falls open and you both look out the window. It’s still falling, and wow, damn, it already went off. Somehow it’s managed to not hit much on its descent, just one wall. The two of you exchange a look before Dave slams the window shut, and you share an understanding: _We had nothing to do with this. Not a thing._

Even though the window’s shut you can hear shouting, people getting angry at the disturbance, people freaking out wondering if something happened. You duck down as if trying not to get busted, wondering what time it even is, because you have no idea.

Dave is just staring, pressed against the window trying to get a better view. The two of you, almost in unison, look towards the couch to try and gauge Dirk’s reaction to whatever you two just caused.

He’s not there, and you two panic for a moment before someone has a hand on each of you. Swallowing, you look up and oh, hey, you found Dirk and he looks like he’s irritated.

“You two. Bed. Now.” He is more stern than you’ve ever heard him, but he doesn’t sound entirely pissed either. Nevertheless, neither of you hesitate before scrambling to your respective rooms for the night.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure they'd be dorks in their own ways.

When you wake up, everything seems to be normal, though you think you might feel a little less shitty about the world today. You don’t know what you were expecting; maybe a police car, sirens flashing, being asked awkward questions by an overweight cop with an attitude problem. But as you slowly exit your room in your best impersonation of a ninja, you see none of that.

Instead, it’s just Dave sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal.

You nod at him, grabbing a bowl and getting yourself some of the healthy sugar-coated goodness. The two of you eat in silence; Dirk’s nowhere to be found. Not that you can see, at least. After a few awkward minutes, you break the silence. “So...”

Dave shrugs with one shoulder. “Haven’t seen Bro anywhere yet. Probably still sleeping. Apparently no cops were called though.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” you say, surveying the mess from last night. Half the fireworks from the sink are on the floor, and you can see the box you’d gotten yours from and you scoff. The one you’d thrown was fucking tiny, how did it make such a huge noise? The bang snap refuse is still all over the place too. “Did you hear if anyone did anything?”

“Nah. I think some people went out to look for an actual person, but they didn’t find anyone. I don’t even know if they found that dinky thing you threw.”

“Who knows?” You stand up, putting your bowl on the counter before plopping back down. “I don’t think it matters, considering it’s just little and they’d probably feel more embarrassed than anything.”

“Yeah, well,” Dave says, also standing to put his bowl with yours, “we coulda been in big trouble if someone did call the cops. Legal shit, ya know.” He walks away, heading to the living room. “Anyway, John woke me up, wants us to do stuff again today. Told him I’d see if you were up for it.”

You roll your eyes. “You shoulda just told him yes. You know I’d drop everything to hang out with the kid.”

“Yeah. So when are you two getting married again?” You get up at Dave’s comment to smack him upside the head as he’s changing the channel; he shoves back at you and the two of you begin to wrestle with each other, almost like siblings. You’ve managed to shove him off the couch entirely when you realize you two aren’t alone.

“You two shits aren’t doing anything till you at least clean up the mess you made last night.” Almost in unison the two of you look up, and there stands Dirk, looking down at you with his arms crossed. “And next time, don’t throw shit out the window. We’re kinda fucking lucky we didn’t get busted after that stunt.”

\--

It turns out, John’s idea of hanging out today involves going to the mall. Which for the most part, had been pretty fun. Jade and Rose had come along, and the five of you wandered around playing hide and seek in various stores (and almost getting kicked out of a couple), checking out books and baby animals and even stopping by the piercing place (your ears are going to be sore for a while from their newest additions). As the hours pass, your little gang find themselves at one of the multiple gigantic marts in the place.

You don’t even think as you climb into one of the free carts sitting around.

John and Jade begin to laugh, and John grabs the cart you’re sitting in and starts to push it. “Man Vris, you’ve been in some kinda mood today,” he comments, leaning against the handle.

“What kinda mood?” you asked, turning to give him a questioning look. “I’ve been decent today.”

“You actually seem like you’re happy though,” he replies, speeding up to make the others chase you two. “That counts as a mood.”

“Huh. I hadn’t even thought of that,” you say, grabbing on as John suddenly stops. “I mean, I thought I felt less shitty earlier, but I figured it’d pass.”

“John, you shit,” Dave says as the trio you’d left behind catches up to you, “what the fuck was that?”

“Racing,” John says, laughing a bit. “I won.”

“Yeah, well. Tell us next time. Vriska move your ass over, it’s my turn.”

“No,” you tell Dave, mock-pouting at him. “Get your own.”

The two of you stare at each other, equally determined that the other will listen. The intensity is somewhat dimmed by John trying to move the cart forward and Rose making a snarky comment that you weren’t paying attention to – but eventually a silent compromise is met.

Dave climbs in the cart with you.

“Are you two serious?” John asks, looking between the two of you. You shrug and Dave makes a weird noise, like he’s asking if John doubts just how serious this is. The five of you start laughing a little, some of you getting louder than others and attracting looks from other shoppers. John mock-grunts as he pushes the cart along.

“Hey yo. John, let’s get some apple juice,” Dave says, pointing towards the food aisle.

“Dave you have ten bottles at home, you don’t need more,” you say, shoving at him to try to get him out of your cart.

“You can never have enough,” he says, shoving back at you. “C’mon, get outta the cart, it’s my turn.”

“Nope.” You stay firmly put, not even bothering to shove back at him this time. “Finders keepers.”

“Joooooooooohn, make her get up,” Dave whines as he pushes against you, nearly causing the cart to tip out of John’s grip.

“I was here first!” you say, shoving back against him as hard as you can.

John just exchanges a look with Rose as Jade laughs at you two before he lets go of the cart altogether.

You and Dave come tumbling out as the cart crashes to the ground. That… did not feel too good on your ear, to say the least.

\--

In the end, you had to admit that you’d had fun. Actual fun, too, not the half-fun you’d been feeling lately. As Dave drives the two of you back to the apartment building you muse as to whether or not the pot you’d done last night could have had something to do with it. You’re jostled out of your thoughts when you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, though you promptly ignore it. You don’t feel like checking it now, and whoever it was can just wait. You get out and grab your shit once Dave parks and the two of you head inside.

“Y’know, he was right,” Dave says as you climb a flight of stairs. “You were in a pretty damn good mood today. Did your shrink start you on something?”

“No, she doesn’t want me on anything cause of my age and all the side effects and shit,” you said, still ignoring the buzzing in your pocket as it reminds you that someone wanted you. “Plus she’s not sure if I actually need it yet or not since I’m pretty much removed from the major causes.”

Dave nods as he opens the door. Dirk’s off working, so the place is empty. You two dump your new belongings in your respective rooms before throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and plopping on the couch to watch some horror movies. After a few hours, Dirk returns home and you and Dave are half-awake watching some bloody horror fest.

Actually, you think Dave might be fully asleep. You just get up, yawning as you realize how late it must be if Dirk’s home already. You get a silent nod of approval on your new piercings as you head off to your own room. Your phone is sitting on a blanket, which you realize only when it falls to the floor. You decide to check it when you remember that someone was trying to get a hold of you earlier, guessing that it was probably John.

Instead, the scariest thing you’ve seen tonight is staring you in the face.

A voicemail from your mother.


	11. Chapter Ten

You’d resigned yourself to not sleeping as you thought over what to do, but one blink and suddenly it’s morning. You have no idea when that happened, and despite how early your phone tells you it is, you’re not even tired.

That voicemail is still staring at you.

You really don’t want to listen to it. So you decide not to. You play the voicemail, but as soon as your mother’s voice starts up you delete her message and end the call to your voicemail - easy enough - and you set your phone aside, flopping down in your bed. Rolling over, you push aside any thoughts of there being something in her tone, something different than all the times you’ve ever spoken to her.

Even if there was, you still highly doubt that anything would be better if you'd listened to it.

You want to fall asleep, but after an hour of trying you give that up and exit your room with the pack of smokes you still had from before you'd moved in. Dirk's crashed on the couch, but the TV is still on so you don't worry about being too quiet. You open up the kitchen window enough for you to lean out of it a little before opening the pack, pulling out a cigarette and the lighter you stored in there, lighting up.

You shudder a bit at the taste of stale tobacco as you inhale. Maybe this pack should be your last, you wonder, as you stare at the sky outside.

You focus is not on the clouds, though. Some little part of you is nagging at your conscience, wondering if you really did the right thing in deleting that message before even listening to it. After all, you've been gone for a long time, maybe she'd come around. Or maybe something had happened to someone, and now you'll never know because of a stupid familial grudge.

You exhale the smoke harder than you'd meant to as you shake that thought from your head. You don't want to go home at all. Even if something had happened, you doubt your presence would make anything better; fuck, it'd probably just make it worse. You're pretty sure that you wouldn't be wanted at home anyway.

This cycle of thinking continues to go round and round in your head as you smoke your way through a couple more cigarettes.

As you're finishing up your current cig, you finally come to the decision that yes, you were right to delete it because your life is better now, and try to push down any thoughts that say otherwise. You may not have your blood family, but you've got family in the Striders.

And suddenly Lil Cal is sitting beside you, staring up at you accusingly.

It had been the motion of him appearing that had scared you the most, causing you to jump. The sudden motion, though, caused you to drop the cherry of your smoke and it falls down your shirt of all places. You toss the slightly smoldering butt out the window with one hand while you try to fish the cherry out with the other, letting out a steady stream of swearing because mother of _fuck_ that hurts. There's snickering in the background as you toss the head into the non-firework filled sink and rinse it.

You'll deal with that burn later when you aren't in front of the bros.

Speaking of them, you flick water at the closest one, Dirk, when you turn from the sink. "Maybe that'll teach you to be on your guard," he says, still chuckling as you scowl at him.

"What, watch out for hot cigarette heads?" you counter as you dry off your hands. "Because normally I'm good at not dropping those on me."

"Course you are," Dirk says, swiping your cigs from the counter and tossing them to you. You catch them without dropping them. "Certified pro at not burning yourself."

"I'd revoke that in light of recent events," Dave adds, sprawled out on the couch with the console controller in his hand. "Make her start over."

"Maybe I'll start burning others professionally instead," you retort with a roll of your eyes as you head to your room.

"Miss Vris, professional of all that is burns," Dave calls at you. "Best burner ever."

You can't help but laugh a little bit as you check yourself in the mirror, gauging how bad your burn is. It's not too bad, but it'll hurt for a bit and you put a band-aid on it to at least keep it covered. And you didn't burn your shirt somehow, a definite bonus.

Dirk and Dave are playing against each other when you get back to the living room, and you plop down on the beanbag chair to watch them. This proves to be a wonderful distraction against any thoughts that were threatening to crop up in your head, as they're being loud and obnoxious and you can't help but laugh and be loud with them. This turns out to be an almost all day thing, with the three of you taking turns against each other in an almost tournament type deal.

Despite your lack of sleep, you're still not tired at all.

Eventually, all of you get tired of killing each other in the game and quit. Dirk makes a fast food run as you and Dave pick out something to watch online. When he gets back you two are absorbed in the show you picked out and you're pretty sure he probably rolled his eyes a little as he sat down and the three of you dug into your crunchy-meaty-saucy meal.

By the time you're even tired, you've decided that you are one hundred percent sure that you've made the right decision for yourself.

You don't need to go home to your mother because you have all the family you need right here.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things might be cute?

You had no idea what you were getting into when you'd decided to take this friend of your brother's friend in. You thought that she'd stay a couple days, maybe a week or two at the most and she'd be back home.

But shit, now you've lost track of how long she's been living with you and Dave. And you're pretty damn glad she stayed.

You vaguely remember a few times you'd heard Dave talking about her with John when the two of them were hanging out at your place. How she seemed down all the time or weird or shit like that. You don't think any of them, even Vriska herself, had been aware of how bad it was, or how bad it could have been. You, older brother extraordinaire, managed to get shit handled.

How you knew there was more to her issues than just regular teenage stuff, you’ll never know. It was just a guess - a hunch.

Honestly, you think it's cool as shit how quickly she adapted. Almost like she'd been born to be a Strider but was sent somewhere else by mistake. Fuck, she even calls you Bro now, which still makes you feel kind of awesome. When that started you had gotten her her very own pair of shades, aviators almost like what Dave has. You even made a small ceremony of it, with her friends there and a cake and all that ironically fun shit.

She’s practically officially a Strider now.

As fucking corny as it is, you're pretty damn proud of how she's managed to open up and not be the weird bundle of nerves and moods and whatever she was when you'd first seen her. Sometimes she comments on it, and you’ll laugh or nod or joke, whatever.

Most kids that run away like she did aren't as lucky as her. And you’re pretty sure she knows it.

She’s even talking about going to an actual school for her senior year of high school, with Dave and John and Rose and Jade.

John says that this is a huge fucking deal.

\--

Today is a typical Strider outgoing for you three. You're going to be lighting a few joints up later and being the responsible sibling you are, you've taken the kids out to pick out munchies.

It's easier than trying to go to the store while high and risking getting busted by the cops.

You're ignoring the stares of the other customers as you push the cart through the aisles, for the most part. Through some weird pact or something that the kids made, they're both sitting in the cart, chill as can be as they survey shelves through their shades. But you can imagine how it looks, a grown-ass man pushing a cart with two seventeen year olds who don't always act their age.

Personally you don’t think it’s that huge of a deal.

"Bro, we got apple juice right?"

"Dave we don't need more apple juice you have a whole fucking store of it in your closet."

"There's always room for more, Vris."

"Can't we get like orange juice or something this time?"

"That is blasphemy and you know it."

"Fiiiiiiiine. More apple juice. But I want Oreos this time."

"Fuck no when we get those you never share."

"You never ask!"

"Well you never offer!"

You can't help but roll your eyes at them in an older brotherly type way – not that they could see that through your shades anyway. They aren’t even paying attention to you, either. A lady with a toddler in the seat of her cart is giving you a strange look. You just offer her a smirk and say “Kids, am I right?”

She looks almost scandalized as she hurries away.

You don’t think Dave and Vriska even noticed that. You start moving forward only for something to smack down by your feet. Wordlessly you pick it up and toss it in the cart, which elicits a noise from Dave as it hits him. It’s almost routine, though you kind of enjoy strolling through the grocery store with your brother and ‘sister’ in the cart, acting childish and knocking things off shelves that they want. They’ll bicker and shove and they might even knock the cart over (it wouldn’t be the first time, either). But it’s in that weird sibling play-fighting way.

Once you guys are finished getting your snacks and get home, they disperse; Vriska finding where the stash was hidden and Dave going through menus of delivery places so you guys could order before you lit up. Everything is totally normal in the Strider household.

And you don’t think you’d have it any other way, to be honest.


	13. Epilogue Part One

When you enter the bar, a quick glance tells you that your friends aren’t here yet; in fact, the bar’s relatively empty. No problem. You can wait. You make your way over to the bar and sit on one of the stools, ordering up a bay breeze. You’re served your drink and you pay, briefly nodding in thanks.

Your name is Vriska Strider, and you are twenty-two years old.

It has been six years since you’d last seen your birth family, or any of your former friends from your old life. And it doesn’t bother you anymore. As years had passed by, after you’d graduated high school and legally changed your last name, it had worried you a little. But it’s something you’ve made peace with, and maybe now that you’re able to think more rationally than you were as a teen, you’ll consider getting in contact with them again. You do miss the family you’re actually related to by blood, after all. You can even forgive your former friends for abandoning you like they had; you were all just teenagers, all of you had your own issues to deal with.

You’re amazed that everyone had been able to keep it a secret from that lot where you’d been, considering they'd still been in touch with them that whole time.

But tonight isn’t supposed to be about reminiscing and worrying about the past. Tonight is to be a celebration of the future with your friends. Everyone is making huge strides towards their careers and life goals. Sometimes it makes your head spin. You sip on your drink, glancing towards the entrance. No, they aren’t here yet. Oh well.

You turn your attention to other matters; mostly playing dumb games on your phone, adjusting your shades as they slip slightly. The shades on your face don’t even bother you now; it had taken you ages to get used to the contact/shades combo that your bros had been employing for years.

Speaking of your bros, it had taken them by surprise when you’d announced your decision to change your surname. It had been something you’d been thinking of for a while, before you’d actually done it. First it was out of spite to your mother, but as time moved on (and you grew up) it ended up being a weird little homage to the guys who took you in and put up with you for a couple years. They were surprisingly cool with the idea.

The bar is starting to fill up; chatter is getting louder. You lift up your head and glance around; still no sign of your friends. You shoot a quick text to Dave before you go back to your game. Your drink is almost gone, so you finish it off and order another one. It comes, you pay, and you get back to your entirely stupid but entirely addicting game. You’re aware of people sitting at the stools to your one side, and you adjust yourself so you’re not crowding them or being overly crowded yourself. You wish that your friends would get here so you could move to one of the tables.

Someone changes the song playing from the jukebox, to something faster and more upbeat. You register that you kind of like this song and hum along to it absentmindedly.

Yet more people are starting to come in, and you receive a text from Dave saying that they’re on their way so cool your tits. You roll your eyes before replying to him, and then lift your head to look around. People are dancing; some are playing darts. But there’s still room at the tables for a group of five to sit at.

You can’t help but get impatient, though, and you drum your fingers against the bar for a few seconds before returning to your dumb game. Dave or John will probably shout at you when they get here anyway, so you probably don't need to constantly check for them.

Someone comes up on your other side, presumably to order a drink. You don’t really care. A glance out of the corner of your eye tells you that the guy is fucking huge and kind of built, too. And he fucking stinks a lot like Old Spice with just a hint of sweat. Gross.

Without bothering to look up at him you cough, loudly and pointedly. Maybe he’ll get the hint and move away from you. You didn’t even have to exaggerate your cough too much, to your dismay. He grumbles something about how rude some people can be in a low voice, and you register him turning as though he’s going to walk away from you. Good riddance.

Or it was, until he suddenly stops and turns to face you. And when he speaks clearly you know that rumbling voice immediately even though it’s been over half a decade since you’d last heard it.

You also suppress a smirk when you hear the surprise tinged into his voice.

“Vriska?”


	14. Epilogue Part Two

You casually take a drink from your glass before you shift, turning to get a better look at him. The years haven’t been bad to him, you guess, but he was never your type anyway. He’s gained more muscle since you’d last seen him. There’s also a ring on a certain finger that you definitely don’t remember seeing there six years ago. You don’t offer a smile to him, keeping your face in a practiced calm; he’s not offering you one either, though that might just be the shock of seeing someone who’s been missing for six years in a random bar.

Just to be safe, you glance at the door. Still no sign of your friends, so you give him a simple greeting: “Yo.” You can spare some time to talk with him, you guess.

Equius just looks at you silently as if he’s trying to comprehend how casual you’re being. It takes him a moment but he regains some kind of composure, before he also glances around as if looking for someone and takes a seat beside you.

The two of you fall into silence; you are chill as can be, but he’s still watching you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He raises his beer to his lips, taking a couple drinks from it, and you raise your eyebrows slightly – a motion that is hardly noticeable with your shades. He sets his drink down and clears his throat before speaking: “It has been a long time, Miss Serket.”

“Strider,” you correct him. “And don’t be so formal, we used to be friends remember?”

He frowns, as you expected, because he does remember. “Yes. We were.” He pauses, before adding “But those things… were in the past. I am hoping that we can move forward from those events in this conversation.”

You nod. “Sounds fair. It was what, shit, eight years ago now since everything happened?” you ask. “Time to move on.”

He grumbles an agreement, shifting slightly in his seat; he looks like he’s trying to get a better look at something on you. Your eyebrow lifts above your shades and in seeing that you’ve noticed, he asks “You married?”

It takes you a minute before it clicks, and you shake your head. “Oh. Nah, didn’t marry. I changed my last name legally, kinda like a thank you to the guys that took me in.” Without missing a beat, you add, “It looks like you did, though.”

“Oh.” He pauses and some color seems to flow into his face, and you wonder if he’s a newlywed. “Yes, Aradia and I have married. We recently discovered that she’s expecting, as well.” Yes, his face is flushed, but he’s smiling; not embarrassed, but proud of his marriage and impending fatherhood, you think.

Fuck, now this smile is kind of contagious. “Well then, congrats. Drink’s on me,” you say, waving down the bartender and getting a second drink for him and for yourself. The two of you are silent again as you drink, and you mull some questions around in your head. They’re kind of heavy, and not something you really want to deal with, but you’re not sure when you’ll get another chance. You’re still a little uneasy about going back, after all. But he’s accepted this chance meeting rather well so far, so maybe if you get some more information you can make a solid decision. You may have accepted what happened in the past, yet it still makes you nervous to think of going back, no matter what you tell yourself.

“So, I know we said we weren’t going to get into the past. But I need to know.” Equius looks at you again, his face semi-serious. “What happened after I left?”

His face relaxes a little, and it almost looks sad. Almost. “I will admit it had taken us a while to perceive that you were indeed gone for good.” He takes another drink, and you are so glad that you were able to partake in the Strider tradition of shades and collected coolness. “While your sister had been adamant that you were missing from the beginning, the rest of us were sure it was a stunt you were pulling and were regrettably reluctant to help her look.” He studies your face, which you’re keeping as chill as you’re able to, before he continues. “There were… mixed feelings about your departure.”

“I can imagine. I’m sure that a lot of people were glad I was gone, right?” You take another drink, ingesting more than you’d thought you would in that one mouthful and almost cough.

“Hmph. You would be surprised.” He waits for your fit to be over before he continues. “Yes, some people were rather uncaring about your disappearance – mostly people that didn’t know you like we had. But there were those who were upset as well.”

You shrug casually, just listening. You’d guess who, but you don’t really want to know. And making up with the people who ditched you is surprisingly low on your list, even if you can forgive them for doing so. Fuck, actually hearing from one of them is making you less sure that you’re not bothered by this at all.

He’s continuing on while you’re mentally sorting your feelings and you haven’t heard half of what he’s said. “Nepeta, though, she was rather upset at your departure. She felt rather guilty about leaving you behind, as do I.” You lower your shades a little to give him a look of confusion, and fuck that light kind of hurts so you put them back up. But you can see the guilt on his face. “After all, if it hadn’t been for me forbidding her from associating with you after our friends got hurt, you still would have had her as a friend. That’s her reasoning, at least.”

Fuck, now you’re feeling more guilty than you think you should be. Maybe it was a bad idea to keep talking with him. “Look. We were kids. So this is all water under the bridge. It was almost ten years ago; we grew up and moved on.” You pause, taking another drink before speaking again. “If it helps any, I don’t think it would have helped much in the end anyway. You know how I am, once my mind is set it takes a lot to stop me. That hasn’t changed in all these years. Never will.”

He nods, and maybe he looks relieved; you can’t really tell. You’re not looking directly at him. You’d thought the two of you were lapsing into silence again, but Equius starts speaking again. “Various people were blaming themselves. Eridan was the hardest on himself, when you could get him to talk about it at all... Which wasn’t really that often, to be honest.”

You make a noise caught between laughter and irritation. “That deal wasn’t even related to the whole big accident that started the whole thing, so I think we woulda had our little spat anyway.” You sigh; this short conversation is wearing on you and it’s bugging you to no end. “I hope everyone stopped that shit and got on with their lives, cause I’ve been trying to. Kinda been succeeding too. So,” you say, lowering your shades again to meet Equius’s eyes; though his eyes are behind shades as well you’re damn sure you’re looking straight into his eyes, “I forgive you guys. Seriously. We all had our own issues and we were young teenagers so of course our shit was gunna get blown up more than it probably deserved.” You bring your shades up again, the shields of comfort. Things are happening pretty fast but fuck; the train is rolling so you might as well jump into this head first. Bring it on.

Equius nods, smiling just a little; you think he might look a bit relieved, which you can’t fault him for. Fuck, just saying the words out loud to someone feels like a weight has lifted from your chest. His drinks are gone, but he politely declines a third for the moment. “I’m glad. I am sorry for how we’d treated you before your leaving. But I cannot speak for everybody. I know there are others who would like to apologize to you if they could; I know Aradia would prefer to apologize in person. If you like, a few more people from our old group are meeting me here tonight; I’m sure that they would be pleasantly surprised to see you again.”

“I might wander over later,” you say, “but I’m actually meeting my own group here tonight. If they ever get here.” You wonder what’s keeping them, actually; John would make sure to shout loud enough to get your attention if they were here regardless of who you were talking to.

He nods respectfully at your decision. “I would understand if you would choose not to; this has been… slightly awkward.”

You laugh a bit. “Bit of an understatement, but yeah.” You can hear familiar voices, but not ones you’re listening for; they’re for him, and not you.

Equius hears them as well, but he doesn’t get up to leave just yet. Instead he sends someone in the group a quick message before turning to you again. “I just have one last question. Where _were_ you all these years?”

“You remember my friend John?” you ask.

“That dorky fellow with the glasses?”

You snicker. “Yeah, him. Well he talked to one of his friends who then talked to his brother and they kinda took me in. You remember Dave, right?”

Equius looks at you with mild shock. “Quite a few of our old group were friends with Dave and his group. He’s the one that took you in?” Something lights up in his face, that look of realization as he now realizes who you renamed yourself to honor. “How did you manage to get them to keep quiet?”

“I swore John to secrecy and somehow everyone else just kept quiet about it. I’m not totally sure how but I’m glad they kept quiet about it. It was a bitch when someone would visit; I’d end up hiding at someone else’s place or just wander around by myself for a while.”

He chuckles a little. “That sounds like it was quite a predicament whenever someone wanted to visit.”

“Well yeah. Fuck even now I thought you guys still hated me. I just didn’t wanna be bummed about it anymore, ya know?”

He nods and looks as though he’s about to say something else when someone starts shouting at you.

“HEY VRISKAAA WE MADE IIIT!”

You start laughing now, unable to keep a straight face. Equius looks slightly more awkward in this situation now, ordering a drink to distract himself. “And that’s my cue to leave, I suppose, but yeah, I think later tonight I’ll go see what you guys are up to. But if I forget…” you slip your hand into your pocket and pull out a card that has your number on it, “don’t hesitate to text me and tell me to get my ass over there. I think I’m ready to face everyone again.” You grin and stand, leaving the card beside him and you swear that he chortles once more as he too departs the bar for his own group.

You plop down beside Dave, who’s watching Equius head off with a mix of interest and mild distrust. “Yo, Vris, was that who I thought it was?”

“Yeah, who were you talking to just then?” John asks, craning his neck to watch too. You can see that he recognizes some of the faces but doesn’t know what to make of the situation just yet.

You simply shrug, however. “An old friend.”

Rose smirks knowingly, as she tends to when she knows something or just has a damn good guess, and you can’t help but send a grin back her way. “It looks like it went well,” she comments.

“Yeah, it did. I’m pretty damn happy it did, too.” You raise your glass in salute, and drink down because no one else has their drinks yet. John immediately scampers up to fix this and you can’t help but laugh. “It was weirdly nice to talk to him tonight, ya know. Learning what all went down while I was gone.”

“Or at least the things we didn’t know,” Rose replies.

“Well, yeah. You guys did do pretty good at keeping me up to date, when I wanted to know stuff.” John returns with everyone’s drinks and passes them around; you playfully shove him whenever he sits down and he returns the favor.

“So what do you think?” Jade asks. “It looks like quite a few of them are over there, are you gunna go talk to them or something?”

“Is Karkat over there?” John’s turned around in his seat to look at the group rather obviously. “Man I owe him for that last stunt he pulled on me.”

You roll your eyes at him before you answer. “Yeah, I will. But later. Let’s drink all together now first like we were gunna, and then we’ll go over and bother those guys.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dave comments, raising his bottle. The rest of you follow suit, clinking drinks and saluting to the future.

Tonight, you will drink with your friends - all of them, the ones from the present and the ones from the past all together in one group. Stories will be told, apologies will be given and there will be hugs tight enough to hurt your chest. You’ll laugh until you’re sore and drink until the room spins, and there will be absolutely no regrets. Tomorrow you will be hung-over as fuck and you’ll get up at the crack of noon and despite the headache, you will give your mother and sister the call you’ve owed them for years.

Your future just got more inclusive; you no longer need to hide from anyone.

And you’re completely happy about it.


End file.
